The Thought That Saved Him in Gaza: “My Mother”

He was standing there, inside Gaza, deep in enemy territory. One moment of quiet, and then—an explosion. Three kilos of explosives detonated on him. The blood, the pain. He felt himself slowly slipping away. His hands were no longer attached to his body, and that feeling, so familiar to anyone who has stood at the edge: This is it. It’s over.

And he describes, in a quiet voice, almost surprised at himself, how his consciousness begins to drift. How he feels he’s not fully here anymore.

And then, in that moment, an image of his mother appeared before him.

"How will my mother feel if she hears that her son’s body was taken by the enemy?"

So shares Ziv Shilon, an Israeli hero. "I didn’t think about what would happen to me, not how much I hurt, but what she would go through—what she’d think, what she’d feel. It’s no coincidence it says, ‘Honor your father and your mother so that your days will be lengthened.’ That thought—that’s what saved me and gave me the strength to gather my limp hands from my body and climb 6 meters out of the pit that opened up and that I fell into from the massive explosion."

Not adrenaline. Not training. Not physical strength. Honoring Mom.

When I heard him tell it, he spoke about a single verse we know so well that sometimes it sounds almost routine: "Honor your father and your mother so that your days will be lengthened." Like Joseph the Righteous, who at the crucial moment saw his father’s image and was kept from falling, so too he—in that space between life and death—saw his mother and was saved from death itself.

And I hear this story, and something in me tightens and also opens, all at once.

Because there are mitzvot we do our whole lives. Shabbat. Prayer. Kiddush. They stay with us—steady, constant. But honoring parents is a mitzvah that, sadly, isn’t forever. None of us knows how long we’ll be blessed to honor our parents.

I remember a day when my daughter’s phone was on the table, right next to me. The word "Dad" appeared on the screen. My husband was calling her. And for a moment, something in me stopped.

How I missed seeing "Dad" on the screen. I missed so much talking to my father and asking how he was doing… and I immediately called my mother to ask how she was.

Every day they’re here is a chance for us to fulfill the mitzvah of honoring parents. The Torah didn’t write, "Honor your father and your mother if it’s easy, if it’s pleasant, if they understand you"… it says: "Honor." Even if it’s harder for us, even if our parents are more complicated, or understand us less. And it’s a mitzvah we should grab! Because again, it’s temporary. It’s also a mitzvah that connects us to our roots—to those who gave us life. And that’s why it also guards our lives.

So if these lines reached you right now, maybe it’s not by accident. Maybe it’s a small moment to pause, pick up the phone, and ask "How are you?" for real. Because there is still someone to call.

May we be worthy to fulfill it with joy and strong health.

Because sometimes, amid all the big things we chase, right there, in the simple bond with Mom and Dad, there’s a power that can hold together an entire life.